Lines written under the conviction that it is not wise to read Mathematics in November after one’s fire is out
Lines written under the conviction that it is not wise to read Mathematics in November after one’s fire is out
Original Text
Lewis Campbell, The Life of James Clerk
Maxwell, with a selection from his correspondence and occasional writings and a
sketch of his contributions to science (London: Macmillan, 1882): 622-25.
QC 16 M4C3 Gerstein Library
1In the sad November time,
2When the leaf has left the lime,
4 Plasters his ugly channel,
5While, with sober step and slow,
6Round about the marshes low,
7Stiffening students stumping go
8 Shivering through their flannel.
9Then to me in doleful mood
10Rises up a question rude,
11Asking what sufficient good
12 Comes of this mode of living?
13Moping on from day to day,
14Grinding up what will not "pay,"
15Till the jaded brain gives way
16 Under its own misgiving.
17Why should wretched Man employ
18Years which Nature meant for joy,
19Striving vainly to destroy
20 Freedom of thought and feeling?
21Still the injured powers remain
22Endless stores of hopeless pain,
23When at last the vanquished brain
24 Languishes past all healing.
25Where is then his wealth of mind --
26All the schemes that Hope designed?
27Gone, like spring, to leave behind
28 Indolent melancholy.
29Thus he ends his helpless days,
30Vex’t with thoughts of former praise --
31Tell me, how are Wisdom’s ways
32 Better than senseless Folly?
33Happier those whom trifles please,
34Dreaming out a life of ease,
35Sinking by unfelt degrees
36 Into annihilation.
37Or the slave, to labour born,
38Heedless of the freeman’s scorn,
39Destined to be slowly worn
40 Down to the brute creation.
41Thus a tempting spirit spoke,
42As from troubled sleep I woke
43To a morning thick with smoke,
44 Sunless and damp and chilly.
45Then to sleep I turned once more,
46Eyes inflamed and windpipe sore,
47Dreaming dreams I dreamt before,
48 Only not quite so silly.
49In my dream methought I strayed
50Where a learned-looking maid
51Stores of flimsy goods displayed,
52 Articles not worth wearing.
53"These," she said, with solemn air,
54"Are the robes that sages wear,
55Warranted, when kept with care,
56 Never to need repairing."
58By her wiles, the trappings bought,
59And by labour, not by thought,
60 Honour and fame were earning.
61While the men of wiser mind
62Passed for blind among the blind;
63Pedants left them far behind
64 In the career of learning.
65"Those that fix their eager eyes
66Ever on the nearest prize
67Well may venture to despise
68 Loftier aspirations.
69Pedantry is in demand!
70Buy it up at second-hand,
71Seek no more to understand
72 Profitless speculations."
73Thus the gaudy gowns were sold,
74Cast off sloughs of pedants old;
75Proudly marched the students bold
76 Through the domain of error,
77Till their trappings, false though fair,
78Mouldered off and left them bare,
79Clustering close in blank despair,
80 Nakedness, cold, and terror.
81Then, I said, "These haughty Schools
82Boast that by their formal rules
83They produce more learned fools
84 Than could be well expected.
85Learned fools they are indeed,
86Learned in the books they read;
87Fools whene’er they come to need
88 Wisdom, too long neglected.
89"Oh! that men indeed were wise,
91To the opening mysteries
92 Scattered around them ever.
93Truth should spring from sterile ground,
94Beauty beam from all around,
95Right should then at last be found
96 Joining what none may sever."
Notes
3] Cam: river running through Cambridge. Back to Line
57] witlings: small wits. Back to Line
90] purblind: partly blind. Back to Line
Publication Start Year
1882
RPO poem Editors
Ian Lancashire
RPO Edition
2001
Rhyme